Saving Winry
by trinity0316
Summary: Who will rescue her if her savior is gone? Winry sets out on a journey of her own. But is she searching for her place in a post Promised Day world or her own destruction? Rated for nasty language.
1. Chapter 1

_Standard disclaimer: Unfortunately none of the characters are mine. I'm just borrowing out of love._

_Manga-verse. Possible spoilers up to the latest issue, but after that its all me. I'm fairly new to the manga so fell free to correct me if I make a misake in continuity._

_Constructive criticism is much appreciated and desired._

When _It_ had happened, Winry was certain she was drowning on dry land, held under a dark sea of misery by invisible hands. Surely, this was death. Edward had failed and she would join him in the afterlife soon. Finally, the three life-long friends would be together again, forever in death. Winry found some small peace in that and allowed herself to fall deeper. _Edward_, _I'm coming_. Then suddenly the invisible hands released her and she was pushed back toward the surface, coughing and gasping as if her lungs were clogged with thick molasses, liquid sadness. The implications were slow to fall upon her. The idea started as a faint but steady whisper_. Not dead_. Winry choked again and looked up to catch her grandmother's concerned gaze_. Not dead_, the idea came again like a drum beat rapping out a sharp crescendo. Winry rose from the ground dazed. _Not dead_, and this time it was a scream in her mind. If Winry had lived, and grandmother had lived, and even the dog Den had lived, then surely everyone had survived Father's attack. The brothers had succeeded. They would be coming home soon. They would be whole, happy, alive.

But now it had been hours since_ it_ had happened and there had been nothing. The radio was dead, pure static, so there was no news from the capitol, no hint of what might be happening with the civil unrest Mustang's forces had upraised. After the first half hour had passed with no phone call, Winry had tried to ring Rush Valley. Central would certainly be unreachable, but if she could just talk to someone Winry thought she might feel better. However, there was no dial tone, no reassuring operator to connect her call. And so all they could do was wait. And wait a lot. Winry swept the living room with her eyes trying to distract her racing thoughts. Grandma Pinako sat on an overstuffed chair puffing hard on her pipe for once looking her age. In the two hours they had sat in the upstairs room, Pinako had been uncharacteristically quiet. In fact the elderly lady had hardly moved except to stuff her pipe with fresh tobacco. It was troubling to see Grandmother that way and Winry worried that the darkness had affected her more than the rest of the house's occupants. There were two others in the room, guards assigned to protect the Rockbell women from Father and his homunculi. Ever the vigilant soldiers, the two lieutenants each stood at a window facing opposite directions, though Winry was fairly sure at this point it was redundant. Father had been beaten, The Promised Day was over, and certainly the homunculi had all been captured or destroyed. And if not, if the brothers had somehow failed, Winry really doubted that two soldiers would do much good against what would come next.

"Someone's coming," warned Lieutenant Bricker.

"Is it them?" Hope broke through Winry's voice no matter how hard she tried to sound composed, but it was quickly dashed by the Lieutenant's answer.

"No, it's civilians with injured. Wait Miss! You should stay hidden," Bricker tried in vain to block Winry from the door.

"No way. They're going to need help and I'm not going to hide under a blanket if there is something I can do for them," Winry shoved at the soldier a moment before he gave up and allowed her to follow Grandmother Pinako outside.

"OY! Rockbells! Are you in there?"

"We're here," Pinako called back. "What happened?"

Winry joined her grandma on the porch and gasped despite herself. Amputations she was used to, but usually it was months if not years after an injury before a patient made their way to the Rockbell residence. By that time, the wounds were wrapped and clean. This man, carried to the automail clinic by three others, was a mess of blood and gore. With the Elric brothers already on her mind, the scene was too familiar. For a moment Winry was a little girl again, and the bloodied man balanced between his friends in front of her became a small boy wrapped in the arms of a hollow suit of armor.

"He was threshing wheat when the blackout happened. He must have fallen into the machine. It's a miracle it was only his arm," explained the man who had first called out. "We only just now found him."

"Bring him inside, Winry prep the operating room and equipment. Hey you military bums, make yourself useful for once and help these men carry the patient inside." It seemed that the appearance of this man had brought back a little of the old Pinako, who suddenly was all business as usual. Despite the situation, Winry couldn't help but be relieved in that.

The next few days were much the same. It was rare for small towns to have trained doctors and Resembol, at least after the deaths of the Doctors Rockbell, was no exception to this rule. Generally, in an emergency, an automail mechanic was able to fill in the gaps between traveling physicians. Pinako, and even Winry herself, had often enough stitched a minor wound or set a broken bone. This was an entirely different situation. When the blackout happened most people were going about their normal mid day activities. Car wrecks, industrial accidents, falls, there were so many critical injuries across the country. The phones had gone dead since the eclipse, and the trains had not come. As the only passable medical professionals within a three day hike, the Rockbells were overwhelmed with patients from all over the territory.

The Rockbell women did what they could, but they were beyond overwhelmed. Their days became a blur of short naps stolen in between medical catastrophes, endless cups of coffee, and ducking into the workshop to quickly reread medical text books they had only passing knowledge in. Every able bodied person pitched in from the smallest children of Resembool to the refugees that came bearing loved ones for medical assistance. The women of the town tore their extra sheets and sterilized the strips in huge boiling kettles, while children rolled and stacked the make-shift band aids to be taken to the clinic. Grandmothers cooked huge halves of meat, stews, and soups to share with everyone who had taken up residence in the small town. The young and strong became nurses to the growing number of patients, tending to the less injured while Winry and Pinako saw to those of a critical nature. Everyone donated blood on a rotating schedule. By the second week, however, it became obvious that the need of the patients outweighed the resources of the town by far. It was now the middle of week three. Winry stared blankly into the storage cabinet she was standing in front of. The shelf she was glaring at should be full of pain killers and antibiotics, but today only a few lonely bottles stared back at her. There was no way to make or jerry-rig medicine with the supplies they had on hand. No phones, no trains, no options, someone was going to have to attempt a trip to East City and beg supplies from the military.

That settled Winry found that there was nothing else to do. For the first time in four days, no one was screaming in pain, no one was bleeding out, no one was dying. The quiet of the clinic was so unnerving that Winry shivered despite the heat. The past four days had been a blessing of sorts. Strictly speaking she hadn't been trained in medical triage, but Winry couldn't help but think that she had been preparing for a moment like this all her life. She had learned anatomy from her parent's books, strength and work ethic from her Grandmother, and perseverance against all odds from her childhood friends. She fed off the stress and lack of sleep, gained confidence in each life she saved, and was driven on by each she lost. But now in this rare quiet, Winry was forced to admit that these past few days had been a blessing in an entirely different way as well. It had been weeks since everyone in Amestris had lost consciousness and in that time Winry had not been able to dwell on the missing Elric brothers for more than a few fleeting moments.

_Where are they? Why haven't they come home?_ The questions formed in her mind before she could stop them.

Winry shut the cabinet a little harder than strictly necessary in the hopes that it might clear her mind of the troublesome line of thought. The store room was suddenly too quiet and Winry turned on her heel toward the kitchen and the promise of hot coffee.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer :Characters aren't mine. I promise to give them back when I'm done._

_It had been four days since everyone in Amestris had lost consciousness and in those four days Winry had not been able to dwell on the missing Elric brothers for more than a few fleeting moments._

'_Where are they? Why haven't they come home?' The questions formed in her mind before she could stop them. _

_Winry shut the cabinet a little harder than strictly necessary in the hopes that it might clear her mind of the troublesome line of thought. The store room was suddenly too quiet and Winry turned on her heel toward the kitchen and the promise of hot coffee._

The kitchen was already crowded with fellow caffeine seekers by the time Winry tramped up the stairs. Some of those seated at the table were winding down after finishing their shifts in the recovery rooms while others were just gearing up for the day to come. They all looked as lost as Winry felt, as if a quiet morning was a foreign and frightening prospect. Everyone also seemed to have the same slump to their shoulders and the same dark circles around their eyes. It occurred to Winry that it had been a long time since she had looked in the mirror and wondered if had the same haunted look as the rest of people gathered in her grandmother's kitchen. Winry absently smoothed her hands through her hair as she searched the room for the elderly automail mechanic. She finally found Granny Pinako in the great oak rocking chair near a window in the living room. Pinako's small stature appeared even more diminutive against the high backed rocker as she slept slumped forward in the chair. The light coming through the window highlighted every wrinkle and crease in Granny's face and Winry thought again how frail and elderly her grandmother looked.

_What has the Promised Day done to us_? Winry wondered.

Winry returned to the kitchen and grunted a thanks as a cup of hot coffee was pressed into her hand. The crowd had thinned by half as the night shift moved off to collapse into their beds elsewhere in Reesombol. The rest of the group looked at Winry, waiting for their daily assignments.

She took a sip of coffee before she addressed the expectant group, "The name of the game is maintenance. If we can just keep the patients stable today then the worst is behind us. We need to keep the wounds clean, the fevers down, and do our best to manage pain. Unfortunately, we're down to only a five, maybe seven day supply of morphine."

"Someone is going to have to head into the city for supplies," guessed Lt Bricker.

"It should be us then," Lt. George said with a determined look.

"I wasn't going to volunteer you two, but yes I think that is the best plan. A few of the farmers in town have horses suited for a lengthy ride. If you can borrow a couple then it should only take a couple of days to get to East City and back," Winry suggested. "Also I think that a few of the town's men should go with you. The refugees mentioned gangs of looters and bandits and there is safety in numbers."

"We'll gather a group and some supplies and leave as soon as possible," Lt Bricker stood from his seat and placed his mug in the sink.

"Hold on a minute and I'll get a list together of what we'll need. The rest of you go ahead down to the recovery rooms and get started. I'll be there to help soon."

Dismissed, the volunteers left the kitchen and descended into the basement turned ICU. Winry watched them leave before she rummaged in a drawer for pad and pen. She sat down in one of the vacated seats near the table and motioned for the lieutenants to join her.

"It's not bandits that I'm worried about," Winry said in hushed tones. "I think that there is a real possibility that Mustang, Armstrong, and the others have been implicated as traitors."

"Yes, we've come to the same conclusion," Lt. Bricker nodded. "After a few days with no news we discussed it in length. Even still, there's no way a group of mountain farmers could get through this mess. We got the best chance."

"If the worst happened we will send the rest of the group back with the supplies," Lt. George concluded. "Don't worry Miss, no matter what we will get the supplies you need."

"I hate putting you at risk like this. Even the best case scenario I can think of entails court marshal for being AWOL. And if you've been implicated as co-conspirators in General Amstrong's plot…"

"Don't worry Miss. We can take care of ourselves and we will still have friends in East City no matter what happened. Besides there's always the chance that the plan worked and President Armstrong has brand new shinny medals waiting for us in East City," Bricker's smile was full and joking, but Winry couldn't help but notice that it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Well then I guess it's all settled." Winry handed the list of supplies to Lieutenant George as they all stood. "I can ration out medicine for about five days, but after that…I... what was that?"

A fresh spring wind had blown through the kitchen's open windows and bore with it the faintest of sounds. It was as if the entire valley of Resembool froze in anticipation. _One and two and three_, Winry counted automatically. It was a game she had played with the Elric boys as children. Winry felt silly as she counted, not truly believing that the sound would repeat_. Eight and Nine and Ten_ and there it was, a lonely whistle born through the kitchen on a second gust of wind.

"It's a train," she barely whispered, afraid that if she spoke too loudly the illusion would be shattered. But nine seconds later the whistle sounded again. "It's really close, we have to hurry."

Winry was out the door and down the porch steps before her guards had even moved. To their credit, the military men had caught up with the girl about half way down the path.

"Miss you can't," Bricker said as he grabbed Winry by the shoulders. "It could be anybody on that train."

"No! It's them! I have to be there, I told them I would wait!"

Lt. Bricker had to tighten his grip on the girl's shoulders as she struggled in his hold. Despite the fact that Winry was gasping in dry sobs and trembling violently, she was surprisingly strong for her slight frame. Lt. George shot his partner a look over Winry's head as she managed to wrench one arm free to swing wildly at Bricker's face. Bricker griped her wrist and nodded once at the other man. It was the kind of communication that came with years of working together in life and death situations. Both men, in just that look, had agreed that Miss Winry was not the type to give over to fits of hysteria and that they would have to do something soon for the over stressed girl. They had also both agreed that there was no way that they were going to allow the crazed girl to run to the station and possible capture or worse.

Lt. Bricker spun Winry back around so Lt. George could reach out with one large hand and pinch the girl's chin. He forced her to look him in the eye as he said, "Look Miss. We're going to take you down there but you got to calm down. You won't be any good to anyone like this and even less good if you're dead. So. Stop. It. Right. Now."

It seemed that Lt George had said that right thing as Winry's body immediately relaxed.

"I'm sorry," she said in an embarrassed, small voice. "I don't know what came over me."

"That's fine miss," Lt Bricker said as he released her. "Now let's get you down to the station."


	3. Chapter 3

_Geek out moment; FMA Chapter 107 WOW!_

_Thanks for reading and really thanks for the reviews_

_Disclaimer: I have not managed to estrange the diary farmers of Japan, yet, so no the characters are not mine_

_Last Chapter_

_Both men, in just that look, had agreed that Miss Winry was not the type to give over to fits of hysteria and that they would have to do something soon for the over stressed girl. They had also both agreed that there was no way that they were going to allow the crazed girl to run to the station and possible capture or worse._

_And now on to the story:_

"This is the worst thing I've been forced to do for you yet," Colonel Roy Mustang said as he pushed his dark sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose, "and considering everything that has happened lately, that is really saying something."

"Sir, you've mentioned that several times already," Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye said from the seat beside the Colonel. In fact this was at least the twelfth time Mustang had repeated his opinion of this endeavor since leaving Central City a week ago.

"Idiot. Who else_ could_ do this?"

"That is true Colonel," Riza reasoned with infinite patience, "it would be your duty after all."

"But there has to be..." Mustang's ongoing arguments were interrupted by the sounding of the train's steam whistle followed by a soft rap at the compartment door.

"Excuse me Sir," a young enlisted man stuck his head through the now open door and looked nervously between the people seated on either side of the small train compartment, " we'll be coming to Resembool soon."

The Colonel didn't bother to glance at the boy who had just spoken. Instead he threw the Private a dismissive wave and continued to glare at the occupants of the seat across from him. The Private took quick measure of the atmosphere in the tiny compartment and beat a hasty retreat. There was no way he wanted to get involved in a dispute between his superior officers. The door shut with a barely audible click and the group was alone again.

Before Mustang could pick up the argument, the train whistle sounded again signaling the quickly approaching station.

"Try not to screw this up, moron."

"Hmp," Mustang grunted as he rose. "Let's go Lieutenant, it seems we have a job to do."

Lt Hawkeye followed the Colonel into the narrow corridor without glancing back at the people still seated in the compartment. It wasn't as if she didn't understand both sides of the argument, but she had to wonder about the future of a country with such stubborn leaders. She pulled the windowless door closed behind her and looked up to scold Mustang for being so difficult. The Colonel stood leaning against the steel hatch that lead into the next passenger car. It was almost as if he hadn't noticed Lieutenant Hawkeye, though she now stood close enough to her commanding officer to see the look on his face. Mustang stood with his forehead pressed against the door, hands braced on either side of his head. His face was tense, lips pressed together in a tight line, brows low and knitted. It wasn't often the Hawkeye caught Mustang in a moment like this with all of his confidence, his posturing, stripped away.

"It's alright, Roy," Riza said with her hand on his shoulder. If he was going to be exposed and emotional than she would be as well. "None of us expected or wanted this outcome. We're all angry, we're all confused, and no one wants to have to do this. But, you truly are the only one who can."

"I know Riza, I know." Roy rolled his head so the side of his face was pressed against the door and locked eyes with his subordinate. They stood together like that for another moment before the train whistle interrupted yet again.

"Hard to believe that just yesterday you were complaining that this mission was taking too long, Sir," Lieutenant Hawkeye said with a sad smile.

"Was that yesterday?" Colonel Mustang gave her the same smile before straightening himself and resetting his face. "Let's go get the men in order."

Mustang and Hawkeye handed out directions automatically, though at this point it was mostly unnecessary. It had been a long and tedious assignment and it was only about half over. There had been a lot of chaos in Central City following the Promised Day. Both Mustang's group and the Eastern soldiers had tried their best to avoid major propriety damage and civilian involvement, but the Central and Northern soldiers had not operated under the same principals. Several major hospitals had been damaged during the fighting along with most of the main roads. Even with the majority of the military's alchemists working nonstop, it'd taken days to restore the city to an operating condition. Casualties had been unfortunately high, particularly in the capitol building where rampaging homunculi and souled dolls had wrought havoc on the military. The undamaged hospitals had been overrun quickly and several tented triage units had to be organized throughout the city in order to treat the wounded as a massive search and rescue mission was undertaken among the rubble. There had also been the delicate and ongoing matter of weeding out the Fuhrer's remaining supporters.

Secretly Mustang was glad that he had agreed, along with General Armstrong and General Grumman, to come together and form a temporary council to govern the country. Apparently leading a revolution involved a mountain of paperwork and Mustang was glad he could share it with others. Still, even with all three members of the council working in nonstop shifts, it'd been weeks before the new government could reach out to the civilians of Amestris. So finally, with the Central City roads repaired and the hospitals restored to working order, military trains had set out from Central toward the four major cities. Each train was loaded with medical supplies, nonperishable food stuffs, and a small peace keeping brigade. All four trains were charged with stopping at each train station along the line and distributing supplies and comfort to the villagers near by. The mission was the same for the train Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye commanded, but with two major differences. Only this train, the one headed toward East City, carried several high ranking officials of the New Government. And only this train would be making an extended planned stop in a particular sheep herding, mountain village.

"Forward group," Lieutenant Hawkeye called out, "the Colonel and I will disembark the train first. I don't want any incidents like the last time..."

Several soldiers saluted in response. 'The last time' referred to the last town the train had stopped in. The forward group had stepped from the train with a cocky indifference born from repetition. The people of the village, who had been plagued already by marauding bandits, took one look at the armed soldiers and had reacted rather badly. The relief group had been pinned in the station for two hours before they had managed to calm the panicked villagers and complete their relief mission. Though none of the other stops had been quite that extreme, the majority of the Amestris people seemed to be in a similar state of panic. In many of the towns, there had been a rush of people to meet the train. Some were begging for food, many were desperate for medical supplies, all wanted news from Central. It had often become necessary to hand out supplies with riffles at the ready. More than once, it had come to near riot anyway. And who could blame the citizens of Amestris for being frightened? Since The Promised Day, there had been no way to send news to people in the rural villages and towns. When the rebel forces had taken over the official state radio station, the Fuehrer's men had responded by cutting off radio communications in a spectacular way. Apparently the Central City forces hadn't wanted to leave anything to chance and had blown the entire radio transmitter array. Communications had been effectively wiped out, not only in the city, but to the entire country as well. Most likely, Sergeant Major Fuery was still trying to sort out the mess left behind.

The train whistle sounded again, this time accompanied by a warning over the loud speakers, "Ten minutes until Resembool station."

"All right men, prepare to disembark," Mustang ordered.

Long lines formed along the length of the passenger carrier. A group of men would follow the Colonel and Lieutenant through the main exit, while two other groups would exit on either side of the car. The train began slowed as the Resembool station crept into sight. The soldiers peered through the narrow windows in an attempt to assess the situation waiting for them.

"What the hell?" Mustang mumbled.

Despite everything Hawkeye and Mustang had come across the last few days, the sight that met them at the Resembool train station still managed to shock the two veterans. The platform was crowded, not with panicked masses, but an odd assortment of determined looking men. Most appeared to be farmers, their clothes powdered with dust from their fields, faces hard and wrinkled from the elements. What was real cause for confusion and concern though, was the fact that each man was discreetly armed. Here there was a casual riffle slung across the back, there a pistol holstered beneath someone's arm. These men had not come to throw themselves on the mercy of the government. These men were here to pick a fight.

"Snipers," Hawkeye mumbled, her hand already drifting toward her own weapon.

"I noticed," Mustang responded, "but calm down. We don't know what this is yet."

The train lurched one more time before it finally came to be a complete stop. The men at the platform attempted to look nonchalant, but for the most part failed miserably, as tense eyes turned toward the passenger cars. Mustang could feel the brigade of soldiers behind him tense in response. A metallic click was followed by another as safeties were switched off in a domino effect.

"Calm down," Mustang repeated, this time speaking loud enough for the entire passenger car to hear. "They're farmers for God's sake. Quit being so pathetic."

Several nearby soldiers turned their eyes to the ground in what was clearly embarrassment . Mustang could only hope now that he was correct in assuming that the men at the station would prove not to be as threatening as they seemed.

"At the ready," Mustang said and the order was passed down through the car as the train finally came to a lurching halt in front of the platform.

The New Amestris Army took on what was supposed to be a non threatening, reassuring stance as Lt Hawkeye moved to slide open the car's doors. She stepped forward and down from the train, eyes everywhere at once. Mustang knew that Riza Hawkeye had already assessed every man at the station (ten men in all), picked which she would shoot first (probably the snipers), and what cover could be found (precious little). Naturally, this was not the first time they had exited the train like this in the last week. This was, however, the first time they had been in danger of being slaughtered by sheep ranchers.

_Worst thing ever_, Mustang thought again as he stepped onto the top step of the train. Out loud he said, "People of Resembool..."

"YO! Colonel Mustang!" One of the snipers had stood from his position on the train station roof and waved his arm in what could only be considered a goofy manner. " 'Bout damn time you showed!"

"Armstrong's men?" Mustang squinted into the the sun, trying to confirm Riza's question, but it was no use in the afternoon light.

"Get down here you idiots," he shouted frustrated.

The first man jumped easily from the low roof and landed in a crouch on the platform. The other sniper lowered himself more carefully using a gutter to slow his descent. Both men approached the train and snapped to attention in front of the Colonel.

"Lieutenants Bricker and George of the Northern Army, Briggs Post, Sir!"

Mustang rolled his eyes at the belated sign of respect. Surely Armstrong had tortured him enough for one lifetime without her subordinates being in on it as well.

"At ease," Mustang ordered. The men took him literally, dropped their salutes, and took on lazy slouches. _A little over a month away from Briggs and look at them,_ Mustang thought. _Armstrong will murder them._

"What the hell were you thinking?" Mustang yelled as Hawkeye directed the soldiers disembarking from the train. "What were you planning to do with less than a dozen farmers?"

"Well sir," Bricker answered in completely the wrong tone, "we weren't sure who'd be on this train so we directed these men that if things went wrong to throw off a couple of shots and then evacuate the village. There's a lot more men than you can see too. We've got them scattered all over the town. Sir."

"Ok. But why, Lieutenant, would you bring civilians into this situation in the first place?" Colonel Mustang was not a patient man and this thing was just too much.

"Well Sir," Lt George answered this time, perhaps sensing the danger Bricker's cooky attitude had put them in, "these men actually had volunteered, Sir. As Bricker said, we didn't know who would be on the train but we had to come down here with her, Sir."

George gestured behind him to the "her" in question. The farmer's, apparently reassured that the train held no dangers, had moved toward the opposite end of the platform where the soldiers had begun to unload supplies. Now that the majority of the men had cleared off, Mustang noticed that there was another person waiting at the station, a girl half hidden near the station manager's office. She didn't bother to look at the soldier who had indicated her presence, but instead continued to stare at the train. She looked small standing there, her face was pale and her forehead had wrinkled. Mustang cursed his stupidity. Of course Winry Rockbell would be there, exposing herself to whatever dangers the train might have brought to the sleepy village. Of course she would never expect a promise made by that damn kid to be broken. And of course she would immediately see the truth of the situation. Mustang brushed past the slouching Northern soldiers as he approached Winry.

"Miss Rockbell," this was the standard script for this occasion, "regretfully..."

Winry finally turned to look at the Colonel and for a moment he thought she might punch him. Mustang thought that he truly deserved it for addressing her like that. For a moment he hoped she truly hit as hard as Edward had let on. But instead she simply asked, "Did you bring medical supplies? We're running low."

"Winry," Hawkeye tried cautiously, "what the Colonel is trying to say is..."

"Do you think that I am stupid?" Winry's voice was dull, her eyes dry.

_No you're not, but I'm a fucking moron_, Mustang thought.

Because there was no one who knew better than Winry Rockbell. If the Elric brothers had been able to come home then Mustang and Hawkeye would not have been first off the train. Alphonse would have been. He would have jumped down the steps and rushed forward and laughed as he flung his arms around Winry. He probably would have cried, all emotion, as his older brother would looked on with hidden amusement. After a moment, Edward would have come over and put his hand on the side of her head before pulling her into a rough hug. He would have said something shockingly sweet, followed by something idiotic and Winry would have answered that by punching him in his flesh right arm. They would have laughed and cried and ate apple pie.

"I'm not doing this here. I'm not going to listen to this here," and she gestured not so much at the station itself but at the men standing near the freight cars. She called back to the farmers,"Bring the medical supplies to the house as soon as you can."

Mustang, Hawkeye, and the soldiers from Briggs turned to follow the girl up the hill to the waiting yellow house. She didn't speak to or acknowledge the group trailing behind her. She didn't look back as soldiers continued to step out of the passenger cars. She didn't call out anymore orders to the men unloading the crates. Mustang sighed in frustration. Of course, of course, of course Winry Rockbell knew right away

The Elric Brother's were not going to get off that train.

_Worst thing ever_, Mustang thought again.


End file.
